


hand in unlovable hand

by Anonymous



Series: invisible string [1]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulbonds, no plot to be found in sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Hey,” Javi says, once he’s in Steve’s personal space bubble. He reaches out a hand - tentatively, until he settles it on Steve’s right shoulder. “You’re okay.”Steve takes a deep breath again, and Javi feels him calming down. Touch is, after all, very important between soulmates. They go over that during high school classes too; touch is supposed to be soothing and grounding in situations of high stress. That much Javi remembers. And it’s not a grueling task, to touch Steve. “No,” Steve says, and means it. “But I will be. Thanks,” he taps Javi’s hand with his own, squeezes, then drops his hand. “It helps.”“Whenever you need it, pal,” Javi says, and almost regrets it as soon as he says it, but then Steve leans in and lets his forehead rest against Javi’s shoulder. It can’t be comfortable, with their height difference – fucking Steve is like, a giraffe – but Steve doesn't look like he's uncomfortable, and he’s not complaining.It’s nice. And it’s also the most they’ve touched each other ever since they discovered they were soulmates.
Relationships: Steve Murphy/Javier Peña
Series: invisible string [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160177
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60
Collections: Anonymous





	hand in unlovable hand

**Author's Note:**

> Title has nothing to do with the story, it just needed a working title.

What people don’t tell you about soulbonds is that they can cause headaches. Not surprising, since it’s like living with another person inside your head. The one who knows you best. The one that is supposed to complete you, according to the universe, but still, they are inside your head. Their emotions, your own. Their pains, your own, too.

That’s not an entirely accurate description. Steve is not _inside_ Javi’s head, but it _feels_ like he is, his presence constant, like warmth in his chest, snuggled close to the heart; it sounds cheesy, when he thinks about it, but it’s the closest thing to describe how it feels. Javier never paid much attention during the lessons that explained where the nerves that make people bond-sensitive are located, but he vaguely remembers that they’re located somewhere on the chest. He absentmindedly rubs there, on the left side of his chest, a bit above the heart. Not that it would do much to calm down his nerves.

And if you asked him to describe what being bonded to Steve felt like, he would say: the migraine building on the back of his head as he waits for news of Steve, who’s god-knows-where with who-knows-who doing heaven-knows-what. Worst case scenario, though…

He tries not to think about it. Their bond is new. Fragile, too, if you ask him. The universe is not stupid; there’s a reason why these things happen. 

He rubs his eyes, then his temples. He can’t come up with any of them now, and Steve blocked the bond out a while ago, when the last thing Javier felt was _fear_. Knowing Steve, he did it so Javi wouldn’t feel what he was feeling. The bond is not all good emotions all the time; he’s felt Steve at his worst, and it was not pretty.

But at least he had felt Steve. When he reaches out now – nothing. It could mean many things. Not all of them are good, being who they are, doing the work they do. So excuse Javi if he tries to not jump to conclusions. 

Carrillo walks into the room – storage, Javi checked before he got in – for what must be the ninth time of the night, and shakes his head. “You should try to get some sleep.”

Carrillo has a soulmate, too, so the bastard knows that would be near impossible, with the situation as is, now. Javier rolls his eyes. “You think I can do that now?”

Carrillo shakes his head again. “Worrying yourself sick does nothing.” He sighs. “We will find him. They are not stupid enough to kill one of you gringos.”

No, they – and he knows who Carrillo means – are not stupid. Never stupid. But what if they grow bolder? What if they say to hell with consequences, and –

And.

Now it’s Javi who shakes his head, derailing that train of thought quickly. Logically, he knows Carrillo is right; worrying will do him no good. It’s too bad that soulbonds, for all they have been studied, seem to defy all logic, so excuse him if he can’t exactly rationalize what he’s feeling.

He’s about to speak up again, when he feels it. The bond opens up again, and the words die in his throat.

Carrillo seems to notice, and right before he can also say anything else, one of the Search Bloc soldiers – or maybe a cadet. Javi doesn’t know – runs into the room. “They found Agent Murphy.”

Javi is about to go out the door, following Carrillo, when Carrillo himself turns around, and puts a hand on Javi’s chest, pushing him back into the room. “Stay here. Or go home. Let us sort it out.” His tone leaves no room for questions; either Javier does as he says, or Carrillo will make him.

He wants to fight it, really, but he knows that he’ll only make it worse for Steve. The bond’s emotions are not felt as strongly when they’re miles apart, but they get more intense the closer they are to each other. He’ll only make Steve even more nervous than he is – faint as his emotions still are through the bond.

So Javi nods, and he goes home, the bond a quiet presence in his mind, surprisingly. He has no doubt that it’s yet again Steve’s doing; pushing his discomfort aside so as to not bother Javier, ever the martyr.

Not like Javi has room to talk, because he’s done the same to Steve before. It’s probably why they're soulmates; the universe has its reasons.

*

The bond is not quite like a built-in GPS, but Javi can tell the exact moment Steve gets home, even with Steve blocking out the intensity of his emotions. They had decided to take things slow so they’ve kept separate apartments, but he’s got the key to Steve’s place, and Steve’s got the key to his place.

It’s still a bit more than mildly surprising when he hears his own door open, just as he’s getting out of the bathroom after a quick shower. He finds Steve in the kitchen, downing a glass of water.

“You look like shit,” Javi says, because he can’t help himself.

Steve chuckles. “I feel like shit.” He leaves his glass in the sink, but leans against it, taking a deep breath. For a moment it looks like he’s about to get sick, but he just stays there. His side of the bond is not all there yet, but Javi would know if Steve was nauseous.

Still, he hangs the towel he was using to dry his hair around his shoulders, and approaches Steve. Slowly but surely. He must still be shaken up after all of that, whatever it is he just went through. “Hey,” Javi says, once he’s in Steve’s personal space bubble. He reaches out a hand - tentatively, until he settles it on Steve’s right shoulder. “You’re okay.”

Steve takes a deep breath again, and Javi feels him calming down. Touch is, after all, very important between soulmates. They go over that during high school classes too; touch is supposed to be soothing and grounding in situations of high stress. That much Javi remembers. And it’s not a grueling task, to touch Steve. “No,” Steve says, and means it. “But I will be. Thanks,” he taps Javi’s hand with his own, squeezes, then drops his hand. “It helps.”

“Whenever you need it, pal,” Javi says, and almost regrets it as soon as he says it, but then Steve leans in and lets his forehead rest against Javi’s shoulder. It can’t be comfortable, with their height difference – fucking Steve is like, a giraffe – but Steve doesn't look like he's uncomfortable, and he’s not complaining. 

It’s nice. And it’s also the most they’ve touched each other ever since they discovered they were soulmates. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Javi asks, because he feels like he should. He thinks about running a hand through Steve’s hair, but he feels like that would be a bit too much, so he settles his hand on Steve’s shoulder. And maybe it’s the lighting playing tricks on his eyes, but it almost looks like Steve leans into it, as much as he can.

“No,” Steve replies quicker than Javi thought he would.

“Oh, thank God,” Javi says. That makes Steve chuckle, and Javi feels it against shoulder. “You should probably try to eat something and go to bed.”

“If I eat now, I _will_ throw up,” Steve says. He leans back, and rubs a hand across his face. He doesn't look sick now, just tired. 

“Bed it is, then,” Javi decides, and looks at the wall behind Steve to avoid staring at his face. “Come on, I’ll walk you there.”

He turns around to put on a jacket so he can walk Steve to his apartment, but Steve doesn't move, and for a moment, Javi is worried that Steve is sicker than he looks and is about to throw up all over the kitchen.

But Steve’s standing there, looking at the floor. “Actually,” he says, “Can I stay over?” he doesn’t wait for Javi to answer. “I can take the couch, it’s just – “ he makes an unidentifiable gesture with his hands, “It helps.”

Javi thanks his stupid brain that he’s just as quick to speak up, too, instead of staring at Steve in stunned silence, “Nonsense, you moron,” he says, “Bed is big enough for both of us. Just go get your stuff. If you want. Though I think my stuff should fit you, and I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet,” but those comments are meant more for Javi himself than for Steve.

Steve smiles, and now he does look like he’s about ready to pass out. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth. I’ll bring you clothes so you can shower,” Javi says, deciding _to hell with it_ , he’ll just lend Steve some clothes and not freak out about it because he’s a mature adult who can deal with milestones like this in a calm, mature way. He swears. It wouldn't do to freak out in front of Steve, who’s obviously very ignorant to Javi’s inner turmoil.

“Thanks,” Steve says. He’s making his way to the bathroom when he stops, and he beckons Javi closer. Javi rolls his eyes, and Steve laughs, then, when Javi is close enough, he puts a hand on Javi’s shoulder. “I mean it, Javi. Thanks.” he pats Javi’s cheek and lets his hand rest on it for a second too long before he takes it away.

The touch doesn’t burn, but it lingers. Javi shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” and it’s even less than nothing for his soulmate. It’s the bare minimum, bottom of what he can do. 

Steve shakes his head. “Breakfast’s on me!” he says, on his way to the bathroom.

Javi stands there, staring at Steve’s retreating back. Steve will be in his clothes, in his bed, and he’s Javi’s _soulmate._ He’s allowed to feel some kind of way about it. It’s not a bad feeling – not at all – it’s just. New. Months and months of their relationship moving at a snail’s pace, and suddenly Steve is asking if he can stay over.

But, Javi finds, he’s happy. It feels good, to know Steve trusts him enough to ask this of him. To know that being around Javi brings him comfort, even if he shuts down his side of the bond when he needs it most. It feels good to be let in in some way, even if Javi himself hasn’t really opened up to Steve all that much either. It’s nice, to know he can be of some use to his soulmate, especially in the middle of their really bleak, at times just fucking straight up insane life.

It’s just… nice.

Not that he would admit to it, not even under threat of death. So if he inches a bit closer and lets his forehead rest against Steve’s back once they settle on bed, he won’t admit to that, either.


End file.
